Rabbit or Wolf?
by PureVampirePriestess
Summary: John couldn't understand why Sherlock had a sudden urge to stare right at him for hours on end. The stare heated him inside for sure, but what will he do when Sherlock gives him mixed signals? Did he love him or not? SherlockxWatson fic Yaoi ahead


A/N New chapter of a new story. :3 I'm so happy I'm posting this. I'd just like to say the first part is written by my friend Akilirose on Deviantart . com. Also, the story is based off of a picture on said website. Here's the link: gallery /36722785 # / d2ym3fh (Delete the spaces please.) Now then, on with the story.

Chapter 1: Not Only Me

"John..." Sherlock whispered in my ear. I looked away, his breath tickling my ear and I shut my eyes tightly in fear. Was he really, REALLY going to pull through with this plan? "Just...don't..." I whimpered, not liking this plan.

Who would have known that this time the criminal would be so absurdly obsessed with gays? Every attack had been on a gay couple so far, and Sherlock was hoping that we could act well enough like one to pull it off. Behind us there was a subtle sound, maybe a footstep on the pavement. Sherlock bent closer to me, his lips lightly sliding across my cheek. My heart was beating faster and faster, when suddenly...He whirled around. A young woman behind us let out a shriek, and I heard the sound of something metal being dropped. As I opened my eyes in time to see them, Sherlock grabbed her wrists tightly.

"Misses Auburn. Nice to see you again." Sherlock smirked happily, now that another puzzling case had been solved.

...

When we got back to our flat, I slumped down in my usual chair with a long sigh.

"Well, that went well." Sherlock commented cheerily.

"Well?! You almost kissed me!" I snapped at him as he put poured a cup of cold tea.

"Indeed! And I would have, too, if she hadn't interrupted us." Sherlock nodded, walking over. He put on hand on on of the arm rests of my chair and leaned in close. "The game is still afoot, John Watson." He whispered, before straightening and turning to go to his bedroom. He paused at the door and glanced back at me with a smirk. I sat there, dumb founded and confused. What game?  
By: AkiliRose

A month had passed since Sherlock had finished the gay case to which I had appropriately name "The Butch's Homicide Case" in my blog. Sherlock continued to intrigue me as he kept on with his cases throughout this time. I could feel his eyes on me as I walked about the flat, sometimes catching him staring at me while making tea or raking his eyes along my body as I fixed holes in the wall from when he got "bored" as he often did when there were no cases. Today was no different. I was fixing the massive hole in the wall from his "boredom" earlier in the week as he had taken the harpoon from a previous case and blown a massive hole where the smiley face had once been. Sherlock had taken a seat in his arm chair with his violin and was playing Zino Francescatti's Vitali Chaconne in G minor. I had never heard him play this piece before and knew why. The song was a bit, well most would say hectic. For Sherlock? Well it sounded like he was playing out his insanity. Not that I'd say he was insane... But the point was that he seemed to know the piece very well. Well enough in fact that he didn't need music or to even pay attention to play it correctly. Why might this even matter you might ask? Well he was staring at me. Again. While playing the violin.

I could feel his eyes burning into the back of my head. In the past I wouldn't have cared. He normally spaced out while looking at me or in a designated area. However since "The Butch's Homicide Case" a month ago I can't help but feel something different in his look. Even when his expression is still the calculated blank look he often wore, I still can't help but feel slightly warm when he looks at me. His comment from then still swims around in my mind, filling me with a confused and odd feeling. 'The game is still afoot, John Watson.' What the hell did that mean? I had asked him many times and he simply smirked at me before his face returned to how it had been before; blank and staring at a wall. Well maybe he wasn't staring at a wall but that's what he was always facing at the time. I sighed before getting down off of the latter and setting the Spackle on the floor. At my movements Sherlock hurriedly looked away, trying to make it look like he had been staring in the other direction most of the time. I shook my head, knowing he couldn't see me before I stretched out my arm and rolled my neck.

"There." I said looking at him to see if he gave any reaction. He didn't move at all, thinking he had fooled me by feigning being in thought. "I fixed the hole in the wall..." I spoke again and again he didn't move. "Sherlock." I said his name and this time he blinked as his head moved up, seeming to "come back into focus" again and looked in my direction.

"Oh John. Good!" Sherlock said giving me a quick smile before turning away again. "Good." He said again and stood up. "Care for a cup of tea?" He asked in which case I knew he meant coffee. He often said tea and made coffee instead. I nodded. "Great." He said walking off in a hurry like he had a hot skillet pressed to his trousers. I looked after him in confusion for what seemed like the thousandth time this month and shook my head again-I seemed to be doing that a lot as well- before cleaning up the supplies from fixing the wall.

As I walked past the kitchen I glanced over to see Sherlock standing away from the coffee machine, like I had guess, staring at me while I passed. I looked up at the ceiling wondering if he would ever stop. Every time his eyes landed on me it turned something inside me that made my entire body hum with a pleasant feeling. I wondered what it was seeing as I had never felt this way before. I sure as hell hadn't felt it with anyone I dated either.

"Watson." Sherlock's voice suddenly came from the kitchen as I put the tools away in the closet.

"Yes Sherlock." I called back as I closed the door. I turned from the door and came face to face with Sherlock's chest. Looking up in surprise at the proximity of his body to mine I took a step back trying hard not to let the blush that was rising up my neck show. "W-what did you need... Sherlock?" I asked stuttering nervously. Sherlock looked down at me, his eyes darker than normal and I could see his pupils dilate under the light of the hall light. Slowly I backed myself up against the door, my breath quickening at the situation. Sherlock's eyes, they were burning me, slowly setting my body on fire. As much as I didn't want it to be happening, I knew that if he did anything at this very moment, I wouldn't be able to do anything.

"John..." Sherlock said my name and I tried hard to control my body to keep it from trembling at his tone. I swallowed and tried to act as normal as possible in the extremely arousing situation.

"Sherlock, I have to be at the clinic soon..." I tried halfheartedly to make up an excuse but knew that Sherlock would never believe it now. Not with the way he was acting.

In an instant Sherlock had bent down, slammed his hands against the wall on either side of my head and claimed my lips with his own. My eyes widened to the point that it hurt and my body froze. My mind slowed down in the middle of trying to process what exactly was happening and all I could focus on was the sensation running down my spine and the feel of Sherlock's lips on my own. I knew Sherlock was trying to coax me into kissing back as his lips slowly and hesitantly moved on my own. It took me until Sherlock was going to pull away for me to finally kiss back. At my response Sherlock seemed to brighten as he kissed with more urgency.

Our lips moved together as the kiss began to change. I felt as though Sherlock wanted to devour me, wanted to consume my whole being. Just as a throb of want ran through me Sherlock pulled away rather quickly as he turned from me. When I had enough sense to notice he had pulled away he was down the hall turning into the living room already. I was left lying against the door to the cleaning supplies wondering what had just happened when I realized that Sherlock's phone was ringing. Trying to catch my breath I straightened from the wall and listened to Sherlock answer his phone.

"Inspector Lestrade, you have another case for us?" Sherlock answered and I heard him pause briefly before I made my way down the hall. When I entered the room I chanced a glance over to him. His cheeks were flushed slightly but other than that, nothing seemed to be out of place. "Alright." Sherlock stated before nodding. "We'll be over quickly." Sherlock said hanging up before his face broke into a grin. "John get your coat on! We've got a double homicide!" Sherlock said striding around the room picking up various belongings happily. I gave him a deadpan look before shaking my head and giving up. Knowing Sherlock, the only reason he had attacked me in the hall was to see what the heart rate would be of shock, or how long it would take for me to respond... or something to the nature.

"Sherlock..." I started as I picked up my coat and scarf before trailing off at Sherlock's expression.

Sherlock was walking out of the flat with a grin on his face, but what mad me unsettled was the glint in his eyes and the undertone of a smirk in that grin. I coughed uncomfortably, down-casting my eyes before making my way out of 221b. Sherlock continued walking like nothing happened and now I could feel the confusion set in again. Sherlock had obviously just kissed me and kissed me like his life depended on it, but... did Sherlock even like me?


End file.
